


like a secret in your throat

by ElasticElla



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: 5 Things, Blood Drinking, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Gore, Simon-centric, mentioned ships: maureen/rebecca & past maureen/simon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 08:06:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6558757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 times there was platonic blood sharing +1 time it was sexual</p><p>(alt title: disjointed bits of mostly fluff)</p>
            </blockquote>





	like a secret in your throat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MarauderCracker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarauderCracker/gifts).



1.

When Maureen comes out of the Lewis bathroom in a towel, Simon's pretty sure his mind is playing tricks on him again. He's not sure _why_ he's imagining one of his best friends naked, they had been perfectly friendly since their one-night stand, and he thought there were no lingering feelings on either side. 

But then Maureen looks embarrassed, and it hits him that she's real. “Simon! I didn't think you were home.” 

“Did- why are you showering at my house?” Simon asks. “Did something happen?” 

“Um,” Maureen scratches her hand, eyes darting around the empty hallway. “I um...” 

Simon looks at her again, closer, catches a faint bruise on her neck and putting that with expecting the house to be empty, he reaches a worrying conclusion. “Oh my go-, are you- are you _sleeping with my mom_?” 

“What? No!” Maureen yelps, the scent of blood hitting the air. “The fuck, no- Rebecca and I have been dating.” 

“Oh,” Simon says, and that- that makes more sense he supposes. His brain isn't really working, all of his instincts focusing on the scab Maureen had just scratched open. He vaguely remembers what her blood had tasted like, the tiny drop of coppery-

“-dude. Talk to me? We didn't think you'd mind, but if you do we should figure this out before Rebecca wakes up.” 

“No, it's- sorry, I have a thing about blood.” 

“Huh, I didn't even realize I was bleeding,” Maureen says, bringing her hand up. 

Simon can feel his teeth extending, and his thumb swipes over the little bubble of blood and brings it to his lips before she can blink. He takes half a step back, hoping Maureen missed the whole thing- after all, Raphael said vampires _could_ move fast enough to be undetected sometimes. 

“So, when you said you had a thing about blood,” Maureen says slowly, and Simon winces. “You meant like a _thing_ about blood.” 

Simon scratches the back of his neck, and figures a homicidal sounding blood fetish is better than 'actually I'm a vampire and Clary's fighting demons now'. “Er yeah… sorry about that.” 

Maureen lets out a stilted laugh, wrapping her towel a little tighter. “Whatever. I won't mention your creepy fetish to your sister, and we can pretend you still don't know about us.” 

“Thanks,” Simon says, belatedly adding, “she's been happier lately.” 

“Uh huh,” Maureen says, walking to Rebecca's room and Simon pretends he doesn't hear the _thank god that didn't come up when we fucked_. 

...and yup, he's not going to be able to meet her eyes for at least a week. 

2.

“Oh come _on_ ,” Clary says, arms crossed tight. “It's sunny out and I'm not bringing you blood, that's creepy-”

“And me drinking your blood isn't?” Simon asks, a hysterical edge to his voice. 

“Thirteen year old me would be very happy about this turn of events,” Clary points out. 

“I'm getting heavy eyeliner flashbacks,” Simon deadpans, and they both giggle quietly. 

There's a comfortable silence, and Simon thinks they might have bypassed the subject, when his stomach grumbles. “Don't,” Simon says, but Clary's determined face is back. 

“Look,” Clary says, pushing her arm forward and pointing to an oval rune. “It's for blood replenishing, nothing bad is going to happen.” 

“I don't need it,” Simon starts, looking away from her arm. Clary's veins are too obvious, or he's too hungry, because her offer is sounding more and more rational. 

“What kind of friend would I be if I just let you starve for the next five hours?” 

Simon bites his lip by mistake, “You'll tell me if it's too much?”

Clary nods seriously, holding her wrist up to his mouth. “I swear I'll tap out.” 

And Simon bites. 

Simon's never wanted to focus on flavor before; Maureen was the only other live blood he had, and that was just barely a taste twice. Clary tastes like sunshine- sharp, brilliant and burning. Simon immerses himself in the taste, could die again happy, and then he feels Clary tapping his shoulder. 

He pulls off instantly, can't help licking his lips, and Clary draws another rune over the puncture marks and they disappear. 

“Are you okay?” Simon asks. 

“Mhmm, it's just like donating blood,” Clary teases. “Really,” she adds, more seriously, “it's fine Simon. Kinda weird feeling, but not painful.” 

Clary hugs him, and Simon exhales, feeling a lot more relaxed about the next five hours before he can go outside. 

“Thanks.” 

3.

Luke pulls Simon aside after a family dinner, Clary and Jocelyn debating over what movie to watch. 

“What's going on kid? You've been antsy around me… and all the other wolves.” 

“What if- what if I attacked one of you and ruined vampire-werewolf relations forever?” 

Luke snorts, “What? Why do even you think that would happen?”

Simon blushes, “Well you all, um, your blood smells different and the vampire in me is curious.” 

“So you think you can get the drop on me and drain me?” Luke asks, an amused twinkle in his eye. 

Simon's hand is halfway to his face before he remembers he doesn't wear glasses anymore. “I- it could happen!”

“Alright, sit tight,” Luke says, heading into the kitchen. Simon drums his fingers on his leg, and then there's a distinctive metallic smell in the air. Simon fights to stay still, tries holding his breath and thinking about dead puppies. It works well until Luke comes back in, sliding a glass of blood to him. 

Simon doesn't waste a moment, hunger clawing at his stomach as he gulps the blood down. The taste doesn't hit him until it's in his throat, and he spits the rest out hurriedly pushing the glass away. The flavor still lingers on his tongue like rancid meat, and god, it's even worse than that one time he drank expired milk on a dare. 

“What the hell is that?” 

“Werewolf blood,” Luke says. “Still worried?” 

“Nope,” Simon quickly says, and Luke chuckles. 

“Good, let's go see what the girls picked out.” 

4.

“Knock, knock,” Izzy says, coming into Simon's temporary institute room with a little cooler. “How are you feeling?” 

Simon frowns, “Useless. Why can't I go with you all-”

“Simon,” Izzy interrupts gently. “You know why. And it's only until we catch the vampire hunter, till then this is the safest place for you.” 

“Raphael is going,” Simon says, picking at his jeans. 

“Mhmm, he also has a few years of experience on you. Now, there are two thermoses in there, they should each last you a day and we'll send someone if we're out much longer. Okay?” 

“Yeah, thanks Izzy.” 

“I'm going to lock you in alright? Only a Lightwood will be able to let you out, and the attached bathroom doesn't have a window.”

Simon has pretty much accepted how weird his life has gotten, but thanking someone for locking him away for multiple days is another level. He's not sure if it's to keep the other shadowhunters safe from him, or him from them, but either way has a shiver crawling down his spine. 

“Of course. See you in a few days.” 

Clary had already made her goodbyes the day before, is already on the hunt. He's pretty sure that was on purpose, that they didn't trust her not to let Simon tag along. True or not, it's a comforting thought. 

Simon waits until the next day before opening the cooler. It had been calling to him ever since it walked in with Izzy, but it was good to work on control. And he didn't want to be stuck starving if they ended coming back a day late. 

One of the thermoses has a little green leaf on the top, and the other has a rune. Simon can't decide if he's amused or weirded out by Izzy labeling their blood. Meliorn's blood tastes earthy and wild, a little off but addictive. It takes him an hour to realize he feels high, and he's already gorged himself on all the remaining blood before he remembers that it's supposed to last. 

Dammit. 

5.

There are exactly fourteen shadowhunters remaining on the base. He doesn't know which scent matches to which shadowhunter, but he can pick them all out, knows the flowery one stays by the computers all day and the greasy one barely ever leaves the training room. 

It's been two days since he accidentally finished off his food supply, and his phone died before he could text anyone. Simon considers calling out to the shadowhunters, there's one that smells overwhelmingly of leather that passes through his hallway every few hours. But then he remembers the lock down was maybe for both of them, and even if they knew he was hungry, it's not like they could get any blood to him anyways. 

Simon tries to distract himself- though now that his phone's dead, the internet is gone. He's already read the second Harry Potter book three times over the last few days, and with a sigh, he flips back to the beginning. (He knows it's luck that there was a book in the room at all, but he really would have preferred a longer one.)

Day three, there's a new scent in the institute but Simon can't focus on it- there's blood. There's blood coming closer, or his senses are centralizing themselves better- he doesn't care- he just wants it. Simon finds himself up against the door before he's realized that he's moved and a tiny magical window appears. 

“Hello little one,” Magnus greets, neon green tipped hair distracting Simon for a half second. He's holding a tall glass of blood, and Simon doesn't care if it was from a roadkill rabbit, he wants it _now_. 

“Hmm, you shouldn't be this hungry,” Magnus says, and with a small blue fire the glass disappears. Simon's nose finds it first on the table beside him, and he's slurping it down as slowly as he can. (Which, unsurprisingly, is fairly quick. It's shadowhunter blood, a new one, but that's all Simon notices before it's gone.)

+1.

Jace is the one that lets him out, later that day, and Simon's surprised that he's alone. 

“Is everyone okay?” 

Jace nods, “Izzy got injured, she's down in medical with everyone else.”

Simon's stomach grumbles, and his eyes widen, crossing his arms. “Sorry, I'm uh not hungry. You don't need to worry. I won't like attack you.” 

Jace snorts, “I'm not afraid of you Simon.” 

“Right,” Simon says, looking away and standing. 

Jace stops him, a warm hand on his chest, burning through his thin t-shirt. “Where do you think you're going?”

“To medical?” Simon half-asks.

“Yeah right, baby vampire around that much blood. Nice try.” 

Simon's lips thin, and he knows Jace is right, but it's still irritating. His hands fist at his sides, and he says, “I'll be fine.” 

Jace scoffs, pulling out a switchblade that Simon's pretty sure was in his own back pocket a moment ago. “Prove it,” Jace says, cutting open a long line down his inner arm.

“What the fuck!” Simon yelps, scrambling backwards. “The hell is wrong with you?” 

“Not bad,” Jace says, healing his arm with the same rune that Clary used. There's a dark stain on the ground, and Simon's teeth are trying to emerge, his every sense pushing him closer. 

“Maybe you're a neck guy though,” Jace says, and before Simon can even process what's happening, Jace's neck is slit open, blood dribbling down his shirt. 

Jace tosses the blade beside him, and Simon tries- he really does- to focus on the drop of blood on the blade rather than Jace's throat. 

He fails. 

“Come on,” Jace says, slowly walking closer. “Do you want me or not?” 

Simon's resolve is crumbling, he wants to say _fuck you_ and _bite me_ , but what comes out is, “Fuck me.” 

Jace's lips curl up into a smile, “We can do that.” 

“I um- that's- we should-” Simon gives up when Jace gets into his space. All he can smell is blood and if he didn't feel like he was about to rip Jace to pieces, he'd be really happy about his restraint. 

“I want you to,” Jace says softly, and that's it. Simon's last thread of humanity is _gone_ , and his lips are closing over the cut, his tongue pushing into the wound. Jace groans, falls back onto the bed, and Simon falls with him, refuses to move his mouth as he consumes him. 

If Clary tasted like sunshine, Jace's blood is cool moonlight- soft, silvery, and splendid. It tastes like it belongs to him, like Jace belongs to him, and _that_ makes him stop, lean up on his hands. 

Jace carves the healing rune again, his neck closing up, and Simon's tempted to lick the bits of dried blood off his shirt. He inspects him instead, notes the dilated pupils and faster heartbeat, spends a moment wondering if it was too much- if he should have stopped sooner. And then Jace's legs widen a smidge, and Simon's hips fall down, pressing their erections together. Simon doesn't care that he's still in his jeans, everything feels so much and grinding down makes Jace moan. 

Simon should probably get rid of the jeans, they're becoming uncomfortable- but he can't stop searching for more friction, for that little extra bit that will send him over the edge. Jace smirks up at him, and his hands slip down the back of his jeans, squeezing his ass through flimsy boxers. 

“Come on Simon,” Jace says, and Simon can't remember if he's ever called him Simon before today, is orgasming when he kisses him for the first time. 

He rolls off, sated in every sense of the word and a yawn escaping. He reaches for Jace's pants, he can manage a supernaturally quick handjob at least, but Jace catches his wrist. 

“Later. We can do a round two after your nap.” 

And Simon instinctively wants to complain that he isn't a _baby_ , that he doesn't need a nap in the middle of the day. But then Jace is cuddled up with him, and Simon just smiles, drifting off to sleep.


End file.
